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Ria kept her expression carefully neutral, but inside, her stomach tightened. The blockage was still there, though smaller than before…but not nearly as diminished as it should have been. She continued the examination without comment, unwilling to let either Korinnae or Asterion read the concern beginning to settle in her chest.
Maybe this was simply how minotaur physiology responded. She needed to review her notes before drawing conclusions. Only then would she allow herself to worry. Ria let the last traces of magic fade from her fingertips before opening her eyes.
Korinnae was already watching her expectantly. “So?”
Ria smiled, making sure none of her concern reached her face. “So, I think you’re doing well.”
“Really?” The girl’s shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Really.” Ria gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze before letting go. “You’re stronger than you were the last time I checked you. I just want you to keep listening to your body.”
“My body?”
“If anything feels different, tell me. Anything at all. If you’re more tired than usual, if something hurts, if you feel dizzy, if you have strange dreams…” She paused. “Even if you think it’s silly.”
“I’ll tell you.” Korinnae nodded solemnly.
“You promise?”
“I promise.” There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in the child’s voice.
Ria believed her and smiled as the enchanted satchel folded neatly back into its ordinary size with a click.
Korinnae watched the transformation with the same fascination she’d shown every other time. “Can we watch more of those dancing people?”
“I’d like that. But first, I need to do a little work and check on Liora.”
“Okay!” The answer came without complaint. Korinnae hopped off the couch and wandered toward a basket overflowing with carved wooden animals and miniature wagons, quickly losing herself in an elaborate game that involved a surprisingly brave rabbit confronting an equally surprised bear.
Ria slipped from the room, easing the heavy wooden door shut behind her. Only then did she allow herself a long, slow breath. The blockage hadn’t changed enough, not enough for the amount of time that had passed. She needed to compare her findings with Liora’s recovery. Maybe there was a variable she was overlooking.
“What did you find?”
The deep voice came from directly behind her.
Ria jumped. “Oh, gods,” she spun around, one hand flying to her chest. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”
Asterion stood only a step away, his broad frame nearly filling the hallway.
How…?
She hadn’t heard him leave the room, not a footstep or a door creak. For someone who outweighed her by what had to be several hundred pounds, the minotaur was unnervingly stealthy. It shouldn’t have been possible.
“You move entirely too quietly,” she muttered.
His brow lifted. “You weren’t paying attention.”
“I was.”
“You weren’t.”
Ria opened her mouth to argue before realizing she didn’t actually have a rebuttal. Now that he was standing so close, she became acutely aware of just how large he really was. Heat radiated from him, and beneath the clean scent of soap was the earthy smell of cedar, leather, and the crisp mountain air that clung to his fur. It was…unexpectedly pleasant.
Her touch affinity stirred instinctively, the dormant magic beneath her skin a sleepy cat stretching toward a patch of sunlight, drawn to the nearest source of warmth and living contact. Her pulse skipped.
Nope. Delete that thought.
She mentally shoved the instinct back where it belonged. She did not need to recharge her magic that badly. And even if she did, the last being she’d ever lean on for that was the infuriating, overprotective mountain of muscle standing in front of her.
